Rumors of Savages

by Carrie Regan

  “That’s true. Though it will make our job very difficult,” she said carefully.

  He nodded. “That’s the problem. I feel responsible for your team as well. That’s why I have to ask you one more time to leave with us. It’s not safe here. You can convince them, Liz. Buddy and Troy are too afraid. The others won’t take them seriously. AJ and Max are too obsessed with this journey.”

  Leave with them? She imagined Max telling Tanya and her morning audience so soon after he’d boldly announced on national television that they’d find the anthropologist. Then she pictured Bill’s reaction. If they returned to the States empty handed, Max’s career would be over, and she’d be out on the street with him. Adventure would be a laughing stock in the industry, unworthy of its name.

  “There’s no convincing them to stay? If we stick together-”

  Moe shook his head. “I told you from the start that we’d know when it was time to leave. Those skins were a sign. We mustn’t continue,” he said firmly. “It would be irresponsible of me to help you stay.”

  For the first time, Liz sensed real fear in Moe, saw the scared youth hidden beneath the smart, capable exterior. She thought of waking AJ. But what could he do? With his career at stake, Max would never agree to leave, and there was no way to make the porters stay if they didn’t want to. It would only make an already difficult situation worse for Moe.

  “We can’t leave. We’ve made promises to people in the United States.”

  “Then I’m staying too.”

  Her heart ached at the offer. Buoyed by his bravery, she felt a sudden wave of determination charge through her. They had the GPS. They could continue alone. They’d faced greater odds, and the porters’ departure would add a dramatic turning point to the story. If they found that it was too difficult to continue on without porters, they could just follow the GPS points back to Kimkali, armed with an excuse for quitting that would be acceptable to both Bill and the American public.

  Gently, she touched Moe’s arm. “Hey, don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine. We have the GPS. We can find our way out. If anything else happens, we’ll leave, I promise.”

  “But I can stay-“ Moe began.

  “The porters need you,” Liz protested. “You’re the only responsible one in the bunch. They’ll never make it home without you.”

  Moe’s face shifted subtly, trying to mask the relief she knew he felt. “You promise, anything else happens, and you’ll leave?”

  “We’ll leave. I promise.”

  CHAPTER 22

  The camp was quiet when the crew got up, the first sign that something was amiss. Liz crawled from her tent and found AJ and Max chasing the morning chill by a small fire.

  “The porters are gone. Even Moe,” AJ said, nodding in the direction of their extinguished fire. “I tried to retrace their steps, but lost their trail after a mile or so. They must have left hours ago.”

  Liz nodded slowly, absorbing the news silently.

  “How much further do we have to go?” Max asked.

  “I checked the GPS last night. We’re about ten miles from the last point Thompson recorded. Judging by our pace, we could be there in a day or two.”

  “With porters,” Max corrected. “And the jungle is thicker here. It’s going to take time.”

  “We’ll have to pare down our belongings. Take only what we can carry on our backs, double up in tents, maybe even carry the stuff in a couple of shifts. We’ve got the GPS, so we’ll be able to find the route. It’ll just take a lot longer.” AJ tossed another log on the fire and looked at Liz. “Not a great development, huh?”

  “No,” she said, eyes on the flames.

  “You don’t seem all that surprised.”

  She shrugged.

  “You knew,” Max guessed.

  She hesitated, then admitted, “Moe told me.”

  “He told you? And you didn’t do anything?” Troy bellowed. Liz spun around to see him approaching with Buddy from behind. Max and AJ would understand her reasoning, she suspected, but Troy and Buddy never would, and she hadn’t intended for them to hear.

  “How could you let them get away? What are we going to do now?” AJ said in disbelief.

  “We had an agreement. From the start we agreed they could leave if they felt uncomfortable. I think it’s pretty clear they felt uncomfortable yesterday.” She looked at each of the men, searching for a sympathetic face, finding none. Singling AJ out, she continued. “Did you or any of us do anything to make them feel better about being here?”

  “They didn’t have to take off like that, without discussing it. I mean, we could have worked something out, offered them more money.”

  “That’s the point. I didn’t want to put them in that position – or us. They felt their lives were in danger. You would have tried to buy them off?”

  “And what about our lives? We could have gone with them,” Troy said.

  “If that’s the way you feel, get walking,” Max said. “You could probably catch up to them by sundown. No one should be here who doesn’t want to be, whether it’s the guides and porters or you, Troy.”

  He paused before responding, running through the options in his head. “I’m the producer, and I’m staying,” he said finally, the words coming out with a lot less conviction than he’d hoped. The Nburu was the last place he wanted to be, but there was no way he was walking out alone.

  “Fine. We stick together from here on out. The first time anyone sees anything out of the ordinary, we’re out of here,” AJ said. Everyone nodded in agreement. “For now, we’ve got a lot of repacking to do, a phone call to make this evening, and some miles to put behind us before then. So let’s stop the complaining and blaming and get moving.”

  ***

  Meanwhile, deep in the jungle, a figure watched them, drawn by the improbable sound of voices echoing through the trees. He’d been alone in the jungle for months, hearing nothing but its sweet, natural soundtrack. Now, the sudden, abrasive conversation sounded as melodic as the din of city traffic.

  After they left, he descended on the remains of their camp, rifling through their leftovers, scarfing down remnants of food, scavenging what he could.

  No time to linger. He’d track the visitors before their trail disappeared. If they’d come to the Nburu for the reasons he suspected, they’d have to be stopped. He’d make sure of it.

  ***

  Progress was slow. The crew stopped repeatedly to shift their loads, or drop them entirely and rest, quickly realizing how much they’d taken their porters for granted.

  Leading their procession, AJ slashed through lianas and branches, his arms scraped raw, his tee shirt stained with blood and sweat.

  “We’ve only gone a mile,” Liz said, consulting the GPS. They’d stopped in a clearing, hoping to break for good after walking for the better part of the day.

  AJ grabbed the GPS. It couldn’t be true, he thought, double-checking the reading. Sure enough, she was right.

  “We’ve got to continue, put at least another mile behind us today,” he said. The team groaned. “We don’t have enough food to make it at this pace.” He was determined to get them in and out of the Nburu as quickly as possible. He didn’t like this place, didn’t like it one bit.

  Liz closed her eyes and breathed deeply, assessing her physical state. Her legs felt surprisingly fine, but her back hurt from carrying the pack and head ached from dehydration. She knew it’d be difficult without the porters, but not this difficult.

  “We should make the call to Bill,” she said, hoping to buy them a few more moments of rest. “We can fix dinner while Max is talking.”

  “Fine, but then we continue,” AJ responded.

  Liz examined AJ. His shirt was bloody and torn where thorns had dug straight through and scratched flesh. His hair had grown shaggy, soaked with sweat. Several days’ growth sprouted from his chin, but his eyes, sunken from weight loss, still bore a determined glimmer. There was no one else in the world, she realized with some
comfort, who she’d trust more to get them into – and safely out of – the Nburu.

  “Let’s get this over with.” She set up the phone, and within minutes had Bill on the line in New York. AJ set the camera on the tripod and framed Max.

  “Liz, great to hear your voice,” Bill shouted. He looked around the greenroom of NBC studios and, finding himself alone, confided in her.

  “You are not going to believe what’s going on here. Max was on the cover of every major paper in the country this morning. We even came in third in the ratings last night showing The Best of Max Carrington. Do you realize what this means? We’re beating the major networks. We’ve never done that before. No cable network our size has. People are eating it up. Can’t get enough.”

  “Wow. Wish we could be there to enjoy it,” she said flatly.

  “You will. You guys are coming back stars, whether you find Thompson or not. Not just Max – all of you. Our PR department is pulling together profiles of the team and releasing them to the press today. Get plenty of behind-the-scenes footage with the crew, because we’re milking this for all it’s worth. Anyway, they’re standing by. Get Max on the phone and pull up the video.”

  “Right away, chief,” she said.

  Max took the receiver, plugged the ear bud headphone into the other ear, and greeted Bill.

  “Hey Max, how’s it going?”

  “Well, the good news is that it couldn’t get much worse. Our guides and porters abandoned us this morning, and-“

  Bill heard Tanya introducing Max on a nearby monitor and cut him off. “Great stuff, great stuff. Let’s save it for the interview and keep it fresh. We’ll catch up afterwards. I’m transferring you over now.”

  Max bit his lip and shook his head in frustration. A moment later, he perked up in front of the camera, transformed before a nationwide audience.

  “Hi, Tanya, how are you?” he asked, pausing for her response. “Well, things have gotten complicated.”

  On a monitor at NBC studios in New York, Tanya smiled from behind her desk, sharing the screen with the videophone image of Max in the jungle. The word “LIVE” blinked in the corner of the screen.

  “Tell us, what has it been like for you over the past twenty four hours?” she asked.

  “I tell you, Tanya, it’s been pretty rough. We awoke this morning to find that our guides and porters had deserted us.”

  “Deserted you?”

  “Yes, the people we depended upon the most to get us in and out of this jungle safely have fled in terror because of that horrific scene – those butchered skins – we stumbled upon yesterday. It confirmed their worst fears about this place.”

  “What a frightening development. So now you’re all alone in the jungle?”

  “That’s right, just me and the film team.”

  “Yes, the film team,” she said, running through the names of the crew. As she mentioned each one, their photos flashed on the screen, all provided by Bill before the interview. He had insisted that she identify the crew by name, all part of his master plan.

  “That’s correct. It’s a great team, but it’s still a struggle. Just imagine – the local people, those who know this jungle best, have refused to continue, terrified of what’s out here. I must admit, it’s made us think twice about what we’re doing. Still, we’re determined to continue.”

  “That’s incredibly brave of you. Tell me, how are you surviving? Do you have enough food and water?”

  “Our food is, in fact, running out. It’s the only thing that may prevent us from remaining out here until we find Thompson. For water, we drink and bathe in streams we find along the way.”

  “Hopefully drinking before bathing!” Tanya joked. “And how about protection? Do you have any weapons?”

  “No Tanya, we don’t. We have machetes for chopping through thick vines, but other than that, we don’t have anything you’d call a weapon. I’ve been to some pretty rough places around the globe – war zones, croc-infested swamps, savannahs where lions, elephants, and hippos roam free – and I’ve never felt the need to be armed before. But this…I have to say, this time is different. I think we’d all sleep better if we had a little extra protection.”

  “Well, you’re certainly heroes to us. America is watching and supporting you all, and wishing you the best,” she said, signaling the close of the interview.

  “Thank you, Tanya. We appreciate it.”

  “We’ll check in with Max Carrington and his team again tomorrow with continuing coverage of their dramatic attempt to rescue lost anthropologist Lawrence Julian Thompson from the depths of a central African jungle. If you can’t wait until then, you can check out The Best of Max Carrington tonight and every night this month on the Adventure Channel at 8 PM.”

  In the greenroom, Bill pumped his fist and picked up the phone.

  “Max, are you still there?”

  There was a pause as Max picked up the telephone receiver. “I’m here Bill.”

  “Max, that was brilliant! Absolutely wonderful. Was that shit about the guides for real?”

  “Yes, I mentioned it to you before I went on,” Max said, exasperated.

  “Well, you had her eating out of the palm of your hand. And the ratings! We hit number three last night! Do you know the last time a cable station with Adventure’s reach did that? Never!”

  Max swatted a mosquito and looked at the weary crew as they readjusted their packs and prepared to continue. AJ pointed at his watch to hurry him along.

  “That’s great news, Bill, but we need to get moving now. Have to put a few miles behind us before we bed down tonight.”

  “Great. Whatever will give you more to talk about tomorrow. Same time, right?”

  “You’ve got it,” Max answered. He shut off the phone and shook his head, infuriated that Bill could take such pleasure in their perilous situation.

  Still, the idea of hitting number three in the ratings secretly thrilled him. The last time he was on a program that hit number three, there were only three channels to choose from. This story was going to do it for him, help propel him into a coveted network anchor position. He could feel it.

  He packed the phone, hoisted his bag over his shoulders, and joined the others at the trailhead. They disappeared deeper into the Nburu, its vines and branches swiftly closing behind them, erasing any trace of their passing.

  ***

  The jungle grew dark as the sun sank closer to the horizon. Still, the team plodded on, AJ leading the way. Whenever anyone complained, a glare from him swiftly silenced them. If he could maintain the pace while chopping away at branches and vines, they could as well. Spooked by the creeping darkness, they hiked so closely together that when one stumbled, the rest of the group nearly tumbled like dominos.

  The sun had long since set by the time they reached the next clearing marked on the GPS. Exhausted, they barely spoke to one another as they settled into the routine of setting up camp.

  “Bastard Thompson,” Buddy complained, dropping his pack to the ground and collapsing next to it. “How the hell did he travel so far in a single day?”

  “He didn’t have to carry all this fucking video equipment,” Troy complained, letting a case of equipment clunk to the ground.

  “Careful with that!” AJ said.

  “Probably didn’t have all this camping shit, either,” Max said as he unpacked his tent with the rest of the crew.

  Just a few more days, Liz thought as she set up her tent. A few more days and they’d be heading home, with or without Thompson.

  When she finished setting her tent up, she turned to find four other tents behind her. “What’s this, guys? I thought we were going to double up in tents to save room.”

  “You’re not doubling up,” Buddy mumbled. After the scene with the skins, he — and Troy — actually would have preferred to share a tent. But AJ and Max were loners, and Troy and Buddy felt funny sharing one when the others weren’t, even if it meant having less to carry.

  “I’l
l share with you, if you’re looking for a partner,” AJ said to her, flashing his killer smile in an attempt to lighten the mood.

  “Seriously, do we really need all these tents?” Liz asked, businesslike. “I mean, if people are tired from carrying too much…”

  The men exchanged glances and continued unpacking their knapsacks. Troy mumbled something under his breath.

  “Drop it, Troy,” AJ said quietly.

  “What was that?” Liz asked.

  “Nothing,” AJ said.

  “I said, we wouldn’t have to carry so much if you hadn’t-“

  “I said drop it, Troy.”

  “-fucked up.”

  Liz looked struck, smarting at his words. “You think I fucked up?” Troy said nothing, but he didn’t need to. “How about the rest of you? Do you all think I fucked up as well?”

  Max and Buddy diplomatically avoided the issue, fumbling in their packs for an object that didn’t exist. AJ alone met her gaze, staring at her but saying nothing.

  Her lower lip began to tremble, and she could feel the tears welling up. Before the men could see her break down, she turned and fled. She managed to make it fifty yards down the path before AJ caught up with her.

  “Liz, stop.” He swung her around in the moonlight, and her hands flew up to hide her tear-streaked face. His heart ached at the sight. “You can’t be out here alone.”

  “I’m not going back there. Troy’s an asshole.” Moonlight glistened off her wet cheeks.

  “He is an asshole. Don’t listen to him.”

  “Max and Buddy agreed. Everyone thinks it’s my fault.” The stress had compounded to the point where she couldn’t suppress it any longer. Release came in great, heaving sobs.

  “They do not,” AJ said softly. “They’re just too tired to argue with him.” He held her gently, stroking her hair as she continued to sob against his chest.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he said, gently pressing his lips to the top of her head. She looked up at him, eyes brimming with tears. She looked so vulnerable, he thought as he bent to gently kiss her forehead, then her cheek. He pulled back and, sensing no objection, kissed her on the lips.